94 
MYRIAPODS. 
the feathered vocalist, you see, perched upon the 
cornice of the tallest house, a mina, solitary, but 
apparently on good terms with himself, piping at 
intervals in the fulness of his joy. AVhile the old 
women are sitting in groups before their doors, busy 
with their spinning and their cotton-pods, the mina- 
birds dispute the crumbs with the ducks and the 
fowls. Among tlie buffaloes in the marsh by the 
rivers brink, familiar and noisy, they gather in 
little flocks, perching on the heads and backs of 
their flat-horned, mud-covered companions, or re- 
fresh themselves by making short excursions to the 
adjacent homesteads. From the bamboo and fir- 
tree j)lantations, which make the temples so pic- 
turesque, issue forth their clear, sweet notes, 
mingled vdth the impudent “ quirk, quirk ” of the 
magpie, the harsh screech* of the long-tailed butcher- 
bii’d, the noisy chatter of the blue jay, and the 
familiar chirp of the homely sjiarrow. 
On every path, where tlie sun is at his 
brightest, the myriapods, or thousand-legs, may be 
seen urging their way onward, ‘‘with a heart for 
